


Twin Suns

by vivial



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, F/M, Jedi! Asriel, Light Angst, Old Republic Era, Sith Intelligence! Marisa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 05:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21423142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivial/pseuds/vivial
Summary: Star Wars AU!Senator Marisa van Zee is quite successful in her senatorial career, until she meets Jedi Knight Asriel, who seems keen on accusing her - quite righteously - of being an Imperial spy.
Relationships: Lord Asriel/Marisa Coulter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Twin Suns

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not used to writing AUs. I hope this is good. I was caught up researching lore instead of writing.

The first time she saw him, Marisa was still stuck as the Senator representing Corellia in the Galactic Senate. With the Treaty of Coruscant broken, and a full-scale war back upon the galaxy, the Ministry of Intelligence demanded more and more from her, but spycraft was troublesome and it was an art that took time and subtlety, traits not found within the Sith Empire, not often anyway.

She was good at her job though, charismatic enough to land a cover as a Senator; Corellian enough to understand their republic culture and pass off as patriotic woman; and ruthless enough to be part of Sith intelligence. _ You don’t survive in the Empire by being weak_, Marisa constantly told herself, a phrase she repeated religiously since she was very young.

She delivered a speech that left the entire senate speechless. She told them about the importance of sending more troops to the desolate and plague-ridden Taris, convincing them, quite skillfully, to move the troops from Balmorra, leaving the planet vulnerable to the Empire, although that wasn’t something she would say out loud. Marisa was quite proud of herself based on that accomplishment;she managed to compose a perfect balance between indecency and modesty, enough to conquer half the votes she needed to pass the bill, and the Republic’s frail democracy was forced to abide by the majority. She left her seat, feeling victorious, followed closely by her young, eager assistant, as she walked through the hall, except there was this feeling she was being watched.

Marisa had felt it before, but she never managed to find the source of the feeling; when her guard was up, she locked her senses even further; there were rumours that she was Force sensitive, not enough to draw attention, but enough to use it as a persuasion tool. In the Empire though, any Force sensitives were forced into the Sith Academy in Korriban, where acolytes fought trials - and each other - to the death. She knew quite well she was not gifted enough to make it there, she couldn’t levitate things or Force choke anyone, so she concealed that supposed skill of hers as best as she could.

Her first assessment of the man nearby was that he was a Jedi; nowadays they either wore their robes or proper armour if they were used to the battlefield, which most of them were. In his case, he wore a mixture of both; there was a chestpiece made of durasteel on his outfit, as long as a robe and a dark fabric belt. Marisa thought he could use a shave, and his hair was dark and speckled with grey. He looked stoic, serious, exhausted, like most Jedi would; but there was a wave of something fiery underneath, his impassive posture such unlike a Jedi.

“Can I help you, Master Jedi?” Marisa said and she noticed how his hand softly brushed against his lightsaber, a single hilt blade. She kept her face as impassive as possible; it was difficult to say if he could sense her or not, but under no circumstances she intended to let her guard down.

He moved closer; there was a scar on his hand, the one that touched his lightsaber.

“I’m not a master. Just a Jedi knight.” He said, politely, too formal. Underneath lay this pungent feeling that he was mocking her, his eyes glittering. “You have quite a way around the Senate.”

“I’m just doing my job.”

“You’re making us lose the war.”

She had turned to leave but his comment made her stay. She turned around, but barely had to move because he was already close enough and he laughed, sarcastic and caustic, but ever so quietly

“Whatever do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, van Zee.” He spat. “Balmorra is an arms factory world, you’re removing our forces from there, leaving it vulnerable.”

“Balmorra has a militia, don’t they? There is nothing to worry about.” She tried to keep her face soft and with a gentle smile, she couldn’t help but sound patronising though. That man was so close to figuring her out she had to be careful, not defiant.

“They can barely maintain themselves, you know that very well.”

“Well-- I don’t think you told me your name yet.”

“I haven’t.” He smiled, so maliciously she thought it didn’t suit him and his robes. It was unlike Jedi to be so... vicious.

“Well?” She instigated, but he made a long and uncomfortable pause before telling her.

“It’s Asriel.”

“Well, _ Asriel_. I am doing what is best for the Republic. Balmorra must be able to hold its own, at least until we’re finished with Taris.” Marisa said and Asriel took a step forward, frowning. She doubted she had any Force sensitivity, but she was sure she could sense his anger.

“Taris is a forgotten, dead world!”

“It’s also home to one of the greatest relics of the Jedi Civil War.” Marisa smiled, sly, and his face changed to an expression of understanding.

“The Endar Spire.” Asriel sighed and he looked around; Marisa’s assistant watched him, marveled, young and naive as she was and he ignored her completely. “What could you possibly want with a crashed starship?”

“There are plenty of records we could salvage, we could learn so much, get ourselves an edge on the war.” Marisa said. _ Or give the Empire an edge_, she thought too, but she wouldn’t tell him _ that. _

He opened his mouth to say something, but someone called his name. Approaching them was a Selonian, white fur and big, serene eyes, with a lightsaber herself. Marisa shivered a little; Selonians were natives from Corellia, her homeworld, and deadly; a Jedi one was three times more dangerous. And she could tell that the approaching Jedi didn’t like her at all.

“I was on my way, Stelmaria.” He said, annoyed.

“You’re late for another Council meeting, what a surprise.” She said, and nodded at Marisa who nodded back, smiling so intensely her cheeks hurt. “I hope he didn’t give you any trouble, Senator.”

“Just a fiery conversation.” Marisa looked at him, a spark of amusement in her eyes. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some matters to attend.”

She left without looking back, walking slowly but steadily, her heartbeat echoing in her ears._ That was close _, that had been really, really close.

* * *

The next time they saw each other was during the battle for Corellia. Marisa had worked her way around giving the planet to the Empire through bribery, seduction and charming; Corellia was a core world, virtually impossible to take from the Republic, unless it allowed itself to be taken.

So, she arranged for the main council of Corellia to join the Empire, by allowing Imperial ships to arrive. The plan was to subdue the planet and Marisa would finally return to Dromund Kaas, the Imperial capital, to be reassigned - or promoted, as she so surely expected it.

But she did not count on the panic that spread through the Senate. Losing Corellia was inadmissible, so they - despite her efforts and speeches about patience - sent every single Jedi and trooper, every ship at their disposal, back to Corellia. Marisa didn’t count on being sent there as well, to oversee and help to strategise. But she was the Corellian senator, after all; why not fight for her own homeworld? She had no excuse for that, or at least, none that would flatter her.

She was completely cut off from communications with the Empire, especially when the Jedi envoy sent to protect her had Asriel and his Selonian friend. He was breathing down her neck, almost literally, all the time; there was a glitter in his eyes, as if he was daring her to try and contact any imperial. She was fully aware that he knew something about her, but not how much or what exactly, so she didn’t dare dabble in his game, however tempting.

“Axial Park is being surrounded by Sith troopers, I have to go and help them set the disabling equipment.” Stelmaria told them; they were staying at a safe house near the spaceport, safe enough to avoid being bombed, but still surrounded by military. Generals coordinating teams, computers lighting up as notifications and updates arrived by the hour. The noise gave Marisa a merciless headache.

“I will go with you.” Asriel said, but Stelmaria put her hand back on his shoulder and he sat again, across Marisa.

“No. You have to protect Senator van Zee. Make sure she is safe, I’ll be back soon.”

And so he did. For hours, sitting across her, staring at her, making sure Marisa was uncomfortable; she realised he was toying with her. So she tried her best not to indulge his little trick, but it was difficult; he had a stance most Jedi had, but more powerful, imposing and his presence was nothing like the calm of other Council members Marisa had met. He was fierce, fiery, loud. _ He would have made a fine Sith_, she thought, watching him as he watched the status map, red dots reflecting on his face as the Empire and the Republic fought against each other. She laughed, quietly, almost to herself. _ He is too righteous to be a good Sith. _

“I wonder,” He said, quietly, six hours after Stelmaria left them; night was falling upon Corellia, yet the world and the war seemed to know no rest. “if you enjoy all of this chaos.”

Marisa glanced over him, but tried to conceal her apprehension.

“It’s war. It’s not meant to be enjoyable.” She said, cautiously, without looking him in the eyes. But she felt his gaze upon her and it was heavy.

“Then why did you do this?” Asriel said; there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “I hope you are at the very least getting a promotion. All the hard work…”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh,” He said, and walked closer to her, without ever truly looking at her; they both stared the planetside map. Axial Park was back into Republic hands, but as long as the Empire retained Corellia’s most fortified stronghold, there would never be peace. “but you do.”

“If you’re gonna accuse me of anything, _ Jedi _, you better have hard proof or else I’ll make sure you get assigned to a forgotten planet in wild space.” Marisa said, but she felt cold, restless; he laughed.

“Like you did with our troops when you sent them to Taris?” She moved, slightly uncomfortable. He was whispering now, and their shoulders brushed against each other. “Have you seen the reports? So many dead.”

She had and she didn’t enjoy thinking about it. There were better ways to die than Taris, but it had been a necessary mean to a necessary end. Marisa wasn’t one to dwell in regrets, although there were enough things to regret for a lifetime or two.

“If you’re trying to make a point, Asriel, make it fast.”

“No point to be made other than I think you have a lot of gall.”

“So, all of this, and you were just trying to flatter me?” Marisa scoffed, but Asriel laughed; she felt belittled.

“Flatter you? Yeah, I suppose you would say that. No, I actually think you represent everything bad in the Republic. Greed, selfishness, corruption. I’ve been following your career with some interest, for a while, and you have proven to be as interesting as you are ruthless.” He said and she had to suppress a smile of victory. It did her no good to prove him right, in fact, it was the opposite; she was risking everything by indulging this self-absorbed Jedi. “But ruthlessness gets boring with time and much like the Republic, you have become stale.”

“Politics aren’t an easy game, Jedi.”

“I am aware of that. You think I’m offending you, I am not. I’m simply pointing out that if I noticed you have become boring, others may too.” He looked at her and she saw that malicious glitter in his eyes. “That’s an easy way to have your cover blown.”

She smiled, coolly, but fully aware that he could read between her soft gestures, which was quite inconvenient.

“I have no cover, Asriel. We spoke of this already.”

“Well, let’s _pretend_ you are a spy, then.” Asriel whispered and got closer to her. “What would you do if the Empire left you here to rot?”

She smiled. It was difficult to see what he was getting at, but they were bored and he was annoying, but quite interesting.

“If I were a spy that high in the hierarchy, I wouldn’t be left to rot.” Marisa whispered back; a red dot shone before them, as the Empire deployed troops in the industrial area; two minutes later, it was green again. The Republic had defeat the troops; Marisa let out a sigh that made Asriel chuckle. “The Empire respect strength, don’t they?”

“They do, but you are quite disposable, van Zee. In fact, you are a liability.” He said, quietly, his hoarse voice making her shiver ever so slightly. He was bringing forth every single fear of hers, thoughts she had buried carefully. “If you get caught, it’ll dismantle everything you did for the Empire. As long as you live, you remain a loose end.”

She was prepared to reply when a loud noise echoed through the base; quickly, Asriel duck to the ground, grabbing her with him, as a massive computer was thrown their way. Everything else happened in a glimpse; the lights went out, and panic ensued. Asriel ignited his lightsaber immediately, while blaster shots came from everywhere: blue, green, orange and red. It was the only source of light she had to see; people dropped like flies on the floor.

“What did you do?” He shouted.

“I didn’t do anything. I didn’t know they were going to attack us!”

Marisa watched as Asriel jumped over their cover table, marching into the darkness, speckled only by the beams fired by the guns.

There was a presence too; she felt it, through the Force and through the room, and it felt intense, cold and terrifying. Panic immediately took over her; she knew a Sith was nearby and suddenly Asriel’s words echoed too real.

She saw Asriel being thrown around, his lightsaber and its golden blade still on, but a red blade showed itself as well. Marisa didn’t recognise the Sith, but they were armored, in black durasteel, to the teeth. They ignored Asriel on the floor, trying to recover his senses, and instead marched in Marisa’s direction. She stumbled back, as some soldiers fired at them, only to be cut down easily, as if they were no more than flies.

“I’m with Sith Intelligence.” She mumbled, a foolish move but better than to stay still and die.

The Sith did not stop.

“I don’t care.” Their blade was up high; she shielded her eyes with her arm to recover from the clarity of the lightsaber; she felt foolish, powerless and other things she could not name at the moment.

Marisa heard a gasp; she thought, at first, it was her own, but it had come from somewhere else. The Sith dropped on the floor as Asriel took his lightsaber away from their chest; he had come from behind. His face had a dark, intense expression; he summoned the Sith’s weapon with his free hand and put it on his belt, beside his turned-off lightsaber. They were in complete darkness now. Almost everyone was dead, but a medical droid was making the rounds and they could hear shouts of reinforcements arriving to help. Marisa felt Asriel’s hands on her arms; he pulled her up so gently she thought it was strange, how a man so rough could feel so... dextrous.

In sheer darkness she felt his warmth when he came closer to whisper in her ears. His beard brushed against her cheek, and goosebumbs ran through her body.

“I won’t tell _anyone_.”

* * *

  
  


By the time Makeb was being ruined by the Hutt Cartel, Marisa had been contacted by the Sith Empire once more.

They had lost Corellia, but it was inevitable, in the end. She returned to the Republic, and while they celebrated their victory, she couldn’t help but feel the fear of her failure, as no word from the Empire ever came. Not until the Republic recovered Ilum from their hands and took down Darth Malgus and his heretical empire. She’d heard he had been killed by Asriel himself, although the station had been destroyed, leaving no corpse to recover. Marisa knew better: with Sith, you better have a body left or they may not be dead.

She spend those days of Imperial silence talking to Asriel instead; he was far better company as a friendly acquaintance than he was as a suspicious Jedi. It took her little time to realise he was unlike the other Jedi; he would ask her questions about the Empire, things she should never say yet she answered them promptly, quietly, in the middle of the evening as he came to her apartment in the a good place of Coruscant. She told him about how the Emperor had vanished since the Battle of Corellia, how there were rumours he was dead, spread not only by Malgus but also other Sith and even the Dark Council. And he would tell her about the Jedi Council and their impairments, their difficulty to act outside of the Chancellor’s goodwill and how that offended him beyond measure.

There was so much energy and anger in him, so much curiosity and a thirst for knowledge, Marisa delighted in watching him rant about the Council’s inefficiency and how they should seek improvement and to distance themselves from the Republic. She would tell him secrets through whispers, and his kisses and touches, and more often than not she had to tell herself not to get attached.

“You sound like a Jedi.” He mocked, once, when he caught her repeating her mantra to herself. She laughed, and forgot about it for a while, only to be haunted by it again the next morning.

Asriel never betrayed her though. Never told anyone who she was, and never asked for anything in return. She did a decent thing, or at least she assumed it was decent, and gave up her work on Taris. Every troop she reassigned there, was moved back to Balmorra, which was now under heavy fire between the Empire and the resistance militia. She told Asriel she didn’t know those soldiers would be reassigned back to Balmorra, which was true, and for once she saw him laugh at something so morbid she couldn’t help but laugh herself. How oddly in tune they were, how he could read her like she was the simplest of all humans, yet never once washed away her complexities, her shifting mood like the twenty-six moons of Yavin.

Marisa never resented something as much as she resented the call from the Empire that came, eventually.

“Sith Intelligence is gone. Wiped out in a foolish internal affair. But you are valuable and I want you back for our restoration of Makeb.” Darth Marr told her over the holo; she was alone that night, as Asriel himself had left to aid in the _ evacuation _ of Makeb.

“Restoration? I thought the planet was dying!” She said, confused. She never feared for Asriel’s life because he was far too stubborn to die. “They sent a fleet to rescue the citizens stranded on orbit.”

“Yes, the planet’s core was damaged, but our scientists found a way to stabilise it.” He said; with the Emperor gone, Darth Marr was the figure of authority in the Empire. Marisa had heard of him; unlike other Sith he was pragmatic and detested the inner fights that usually rendered every imperial process useless. She respected him, as much as she could respect any authority. “It will deteriorate the atmosphere. The Republic will evacuate the citizens, while the Hutt Cartel will either die or flee. The planet will be ours, then. No witnesses.”

“I don’t see how I can help you, _my Lord_.”

“You are an asset. Believe not in those fools that say false strength is better than actual strength. The Empire is fragile at the moment and without knowing where the Emperor is, we stand in the dark between the Republic, the Hutt Cartel and threats from the shadows.” Marr said; Marisa knew where he was going, she couldn’t help but feel thrilled about it. “I want you back in Imperial space, as I have been summoning other valuable agents that were cut off during the siege of Sith Intelligence. Take a shuttle back to the fleet as quickly as possible. We need you.”

She left the next morning, without leaving a note or a warning or a goodbye. Asriel knew that outcome was always going to happen. He expected no leniency from her.

They didn’t see each other on Makeb; they didn’t see each other for a while.

* * *

  
  


Marisa never thought they would see each other again, let alone under a truce between the Republic and the Empire, on Yavin 4.

Their shoulders brushed, side by side, as they walked behind the envoy of their commanders; Marisa followed Darth Marr, heavily armored and stoic, while Asriel was in line behind Grand Master Satele Shan.

They were so formal towards each other she felt strange, but he didn’t seem angry; he actually seemed amused. He stared her down, with her full-on imperial uniform, its symbol glittering over her chest, red against black. Her cap carefully put above her hair, so tightly done in an Imperial bun; when their eyes met, he smiled at her and Marisa couldn’t help but grin. He was awfully aware of the dangerous situation they were in, with the imminent rise of the long forgotten Emperor and Revan himself wreaking havoc to defeat a being no longer even physical.

“You look uptight in there.” He nodded at her outfit, after their meeting, in a corner behind a ruined pillar; Yavin was simply a huge Force ruin, there were plenty of places to hide. They didn’t need to hide, not when some republic troopers were talking to imperial troopers, and the mood of tension but a soft amusement as well, as if that whole truce was a collective dream. They hid, nonetheless, because there was something delicious about being a secret.

“We have discipline in the Empire.” She hissed back, as he pulled her closer and pressed her against himself. “Unlike you pubs, who walk around as if you found your things on a trashcan. You could use a shave, by the way.”

“You speak as if you don’t like the beard.”

“I don’t.”

“_Liar. _”

He made sure to untidy her uniform and hair whenever they kiss, just to spite her. That was the closest they have ever been to true freedom, yet they made sure to keep it a secret, more per Marisa’s request than his. If Asriel were to get caught in that relationship, he’d be punished by the Jedi with meditation; he was too good a Jedi to be expelled. If Marisa were to get caught, however, fraternising with a Jedi, her entire career would be tainted and she would never wash away the shame and the suspicions that would haunt her. No one would trust and the Sith were not known to be forgiving; if they thought, even if for a while, that she had betrayed their secrets to Asriel, they would kill her slowly and relentlessly.

By the time their truce was over, no good news came; while Revan was defeated (and Asriel got himself a new scar on his cheek which, ironically, forced him to shave so he could heal), the Emperor had been freed and his sole goal was to devour life in the entire galaxy.

Asriel kissed her goodbye, as their fleets prepared to leave; his hands holding her face with such a care for a man who was so used to killing yet took no pleasure out of it. They said nothing to each other. Marisa doubt there were any words to be said at all.

* * *

  
  


As Ziost was devoured entirely, all life consumed, inch by inch, Asriel held her against his chest. They watched, in horror and astonishment, from the safety of an orbital station, as the planet turned from his soft brown colour to a deep dark grey, as if a wave of darkness slowly swept away every living thing in there. All Force consumed, at once; to Asriel, the genocide hurt him through the Force but to Marisa, she felt as if her entirely life was being erased. A whole life of dedication to an Emperor, who on a whim, destroyed an entire _ imperial _ planet for no reason they could know.

Asriel held her tighter as she lost her balance; his hands felt warm against her skin; she laughed in horror as emergency alerts went off. Life sign monitors blinked red for a moment, and then went back to their blue state, all of them pointing null. _ A whole planet gone, _ she thought. 

He whispered something in her ear that she thought was amusing; how idealistic could he be in his own selfishness; he kissed her, to shut her in her hysteria, with a dead planet as their sole witness.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
